


Two Boys Sharing More Than Just a Bed (Subtitle: Oh My God, They Were Roommates)

by DyingAtDelphi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Comedy, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Love, M/M, Roommates, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyingAtDelphi/pseuds/DyingAtDelphi
Summary: Two roommates share a bed after a small flood. Thing is, they love each other very much, and a night of cuddling opens the door to something huge...This exciting work features boys cuddling, boys holding hands, boys kissing, and boys having anal sex. There’s also a brief meta-commentary about immersion, featuring a microwave burrito—don’t miss it! This is 2500 words of action-packed gay!
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Two Boys Sharing More Than Just a Bed (Subtitle: Oh My God, They Were Roommates)

It was the cold, but pleasant afternoon of December 1st. Two boys relaxed on a couch, watching the cinematic masterpiece known as Birdemic. Their names were Nicolas and Alexander, and oh my god, they were roommates.

Let me describe them for you. No, I _insist._

Alexander (goes by Alex) had light, milk chocolate skin and blonde hair that reached his shoulders. He was a little brash, but in an endearing way—his emotions are always plain to see. With mostly feminine features and a 5’7” stature, he’s the kind of cute boy who gets “jokingly” harassed for feet pics. 

Nicolas (usually goes by Nic), on the other hand, was a bit of the opposite. To start, he was clearly more than six feet tall, with toned muscles from a physical job. Yet, his features were soft, not too sharp or masculine. Speaking with a relaxed and gentle voice, he’s the kind of guy who volunteers at the Scholastic Book Fair and asks children if they like Animorphs.

But in their differences, they had one similarity: unparalleled straightness. They were the very definition of heterosexual—the type to kiss each other good night (with tongue), but only while wearing socks.

However, the waters of change began to shift and stir. Specifically, in their upstairs neighbor’s toilet, causing a minor flood in Alex’s room. It had to be cordoned off with warning tape until the maintenance lady could get back from Belarus (why was she in Belarus?). Estimated time: three days.

•••

Night soon fell on the apartment, and with it, came the ultimate question: where will Alex sleep?

“I guess the couch would work,” he said, “Everyone sleeps on couches.”

“Are you sure? It seems really uncomfortable—I don’t want you to get hurt,” Nicolas replied. He was the doting kind.

“Mm, I think it’ll be fine. Unless something crazy happens, like a can of soda spilling—“

Like a meteor from Sephiroth, his can of soda fell out of his hand, directly onto the couch.

“Well, shit,” they said, in unison.

There was a pause.

“If you want, you can sleep in my room. I can take the floor,” said Nic.

“No way, I couldn’t do that. I’ll take the floor.”

“Absolutely not. It’s my floor.”

“It’s also your bed. So _my_ floor.”

After some heated debate, they came to a conclusion: they’ll just share the bed. It’s a queen, anyway—more than big enough for two people. 

Well, small people, at least.

•••

Bringing his pillow, Alex climbed into the bed, careful not to steal space. 

“I would’ve brought my blanket, but that got wet, too,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Eh, I’ve got a king size comforter. Should be fine.”

They both got under the sheets, facing away from each other. However, yet another problem fell into the grand pile—a problem of temperature. To understand what kind of people they are, one may simply look at their thermostat: 68° in the winter, 78° in the summer. Why? Because energy bills are for chumps.

A winter 68 (as I call it) was usually bearable, but the flooded room sapped precious heat, until their apartment was a chilling 64 degrees.

“It’s... kind of cold,” Alex said, “Do you mind if I get a little closer?”

“Please.”

Alex inched back, feeling a teeny bit warmer.

“Actually, can you get even closer? I’m really bad with the cold...” Nic pleaded.

At this point, they were nearly touching. Both were just a little embarrassed by this scenario, but what can you do about the cold? Nothing. Especially not putting on warmer clothes, fuck that. Where’s the eroticism in that? 

A bit of time passed. Nic continued to shift and turn, like a restless zombie who wasn’t eligible for a role in AMC’s The Walking Dead. 

He turned to Alex. “This is gonna sound weird, but, like... I usually sleep hugging a giant pillow, and I’ve gotten so used to it that I feel wrong without it.”

“Oh, uh, then... where’s your pillow?” Alex asked.

“I left it in your room this morning, so...”

“Ah,” There was a short pause, “Well, you could... um... hug me, haha.”

“Is that okay?”

“Wait, you took that serious?”

“Was it not a serious question?”

“It wasn’t, but... I dunno, I’m surprised you’re not weirded out.”

“I mean, I think I could fall asleep hugging you.”

Alex had a little laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means.”

“Well, well... if that’s what you want, fine,” The shorter boy backed into him, wiggling his lower half a bit. 

After a moment of hesitation, Nic followed through on the hug. He put his arms around his friend and pulled him close, which somehow made Alex’s heart pump. By now, they were both breathing just a little lighter, not exhaling fully—picture a teenager with wifi and thin walls.

There was tension in the air. Like they both wanted to say something, but couldn’t. That strange vibe hung for exactly ten seconds, until they both conked out.

•••

The following day wasn’t too different. What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, anyway. That would include any strange dreams (whooooa, foreshadowing).

On this most bountiful of four-day weekends (thank you, PTO), the boys played video games, cooked together, practiced their respective hobbies, and generally had a nice time. Their chemistry was impeccable—something to be envied, even by couples.

You pick up what I’m putting down, yea?

Nevertheless, in the words of Ratt: what goes around, comes around—and that applies to the sun.

They assumed their positions in Nic’s bed, just as cold as last night. In the dark, silent room, alive only with the sound of rustling sheets, a question broke the silence.

“Do you... wanna hug me again?” Alex asked.

Nic felt a teeny bit startled, but overall... relieved. He wanted to ask the same thing, he just couldn’t find the words.

“If that’s okay with you...”

Last night repeated itself. Yep, Alex’s heart was definitely reacting—isn’t that weird? It’s just a hug, they happen all the time—granted, rarely from behind, but the point stands. They’re just another dude’s arms. A little big, a little strong, whatever.

But, before he could finish that thought, he felt the absence of Nic’s waist.

•••

You see, kids... there comes a time in a penis owner’s life where they must cuddle with someone. Inevitably (unless they’re asexual, which is completely valid), their lower half will react, and it will leave them on a forked road—much like that Robert Frost poem I didn’t understand in middle school. To pull away, or to remain, that is the question—whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to press one’s boner into the buttocks, or to take arms against the sea of awkwardness with an inconspicuous scoot.

Nicolas had made his choice. But Alex knew that. He knew exactly what was happening.

•••

“Hey, Nic...” he said, “are you... hard?”

There was a long silence.

“...yeah. Is that gross?”

“No, I was just... uh, wondering why, I guess.”

“I’m gonna be real, I think I’m in love with you.”

“Oh.”

We did it, folks.

Much like his bedroom, Alex’s face flooded. Except, unlike his bedroom, it was with blood. 

(Please see a priest if blood is flowing out of your neighbor’s toilet.)

Slowly, he turned to face Nic, trying to suppress an uncontrollable... smile?

“Is... is that so, huh?”

“Yeah, see, I’ve been thinking, you know, that... you’re really cute. And, uh... I think I also dreamed about us... you know...” he trailed off, “...having sex...”

Alex broke from minor giggles into excited stammers, as if words escaped him. He inched even closer. “Funny, I... kinda dreamed the same thing.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

You could cut the tension in the air with a spoon. But, like, a really sharp spoon.

“You pinned me down and kissed me while you came inside,” he whispered.

•••

They were now engaging in the time-old practice of making out. Look, we had to get here somehow—it was gonna happen sooner than later. Slow burn is for chumps, monks, and lonely people who need to cry.

Alex put his hand over Nic’s pants (of the sweat variety), feeling that he was hard enough to break glass. But you should only do that in case of emergency. 

“Hey, Nic...” he said, “I really wanna do it.”

“So do I... but we can’t. Not off the cuff like this.”

“What do you mean?”

He explained very bluntly that they needed to prepare Alex’s ass, or Bad Things would happen.

“Did you research this?” Alex asked, incredulously.

“Of course.”

“When?”

Nic turned his gaze to a wall. “...last year, after we accidentally held hands...”

Don’t judge, it’s a thing that can happen.

Alex had a beaming, smug look on his face. “Wow... you’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“Obviously. I’ve liked you for a while.”

Critical hit.

In the absence of sex, they decided to just give each other handjobs while making out. There was a lot of sweet whispering and cuddling that night—well, after a little cleanup.

•••

When the next day rolled around, they were restless. After ordering food and handling all business, they got straight down to their own business.

That is, preparing to have gay sex.

“I just want to make sure...” Nicolas said, “We’re... dating, right?”

“Mm-hm. We’re boyfriends now.”

Somehow, that statement hit both of them where it hurt. You know that kind of gut-wrenching stomach turn you get from good romance? Oh yeah, this was that good shit.

They took a quick break to make out in the kitchen before proceeding with their plan.

Alex waltzed into his flooded room, weaving through the yellow tape, to grab something out of a drawer. It was a little bag full of lube and condoms, plus some things required for [ah-hem] _**gay sex**_. That’s right, italicized AND bolded text—that means business.

“Wait, you had all that?” Nic asked.

“You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about _it_ for a while.”

Nic fought back a dumb smile. “That makes me really happy.”

•••

Gonna be real, I was microwaving a burrito, so I’ll just do a quick summary of what happened. 

They made sure everything was sanitary and prepared. I will not be explaining.

Now, you may ask, “What’s the point? Why even include this part?” That’s because I refuse to believe in a reality where anal sex is as easy as jamming it in. There’s a process to this stuff, and if you underestimate it, you will not have a pleasant time. Our boys, they’re discerning, diligent, and—most importantly—down to fuck. 

The center of my burrito is still frozen.

•••

Tense, nude, and with pounding hearts, they made their way back to Nic’s room. They were holding hands, like two gay boys about to have sex. Hey, for once, that’s actually a correct metaphor.

Alex nervously lied down, trying to control the expression on his face. In reality, neither of them knew what faces they were making, or how they were breathing. They were focused entirely on each other. On this moment.

Carefully, Nicolas mounted the bed. He gave his boyfriend a little kiss on the cheek, sharing a smile with him. 

They were both ready. Ready as they’ll ever be.

•••

They took things very slow. With Alex doing his best to relax, Nic gently slid it in, millimeter by millimeter. 

That line doesn’t hit the same in metric.

After what seemed like hours (it was twelve seconds), Alex felt the characteristic sensation of balls against his ass.

“Is it all in?” he asked.

“It’s all in,” Nic gave him yet another kiss, “You’re doing great, babe.”

Alex felt a warm, tingling sensation. He really liked that.

It took some time, but eventually, the situation was comfortable enough for small movements. And then medium movements. And then big movements.

Things were going well enough that their skin was starting to lightly _plap_ together. With every thrust, Alex twitched and gasped, hands gripping the bedsheets. He had played with his ass before—enough that the preparation process was quicker—but this was a different sensation. The heat, the lack of control, the heart-pounding sight of his boyfriend on top...

Nic, too, was feeling it (unlike Mr. Krabs). Sex was incredible, sure, but the real pleasure came from seeing Alex’s flushed, panting face and feeling his legs tremble. He really was the cutest boy on Earth.

Their eyes met. “I love you,” they both blurted out.

God, they’re gay.

Eventually, things reached a head. If I were a better narrator, I’d go into more detail about how his dingalonga pierced the squadalahoohoo, but you know how this goes. You have an imagination.

Alex’s entire body tensed up. His toes curled, his back arched, and his head filled with stars as the wave passed (cowabunga). Strands of white cum were left on his stomach, remnants of what he considered the best orgasm ever.

No more than half a minute later, Nic was on the edge. Remembering Alex’s dream, he scooped his beautiful boyfriend up for one last kiss, bottoming out in his ass. Just like that, his eyes unfocused, as if his brain had crashed. You know, like Microsoft Word six hours before a Master’s thesis is due. 

Their fingers were very firmly interlaced throughout this emotional ordeal. There is truly nothing like gay boys holding hands. 

It took some time for them to come down, but they appreciated each other’s company in those moments. After about three minutes of basking in the afterglow, Nic brought himself to pull out.

•••

“Well, that’s a little disappointing,” Alex said, eyeing the full condom, “I wanted you to cum inside.”

“We had to be safe,” He gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, “How about next time?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

They decided to cuddle and discuss how they felt during this most auspicious of anal sessions. What they could do next time, what they’d like to try, and how much they loved each other.

Three cheers for gay sex! Hurray!

•••

We conclude our tale with the landlord condemning their apartment due to mold buildup. It turns out the Slavic maintenance lady never existed, and was a figment of the building’s collective imagination. People swore they remembered her smoking cigarettes and shouting “СУКА бЛЯТЬ” at unresponsive machinery, but oh well.

The boys got compensated for their ruined stuff (thanks, insurance) and now live in a one bedroom apartment. Obviously, they share the bed. And every night, they sleep in each other’s arms, with content smiles on their faces.

Good night, gay princes.

**Author's Note:**

> The curtains have shut, but this probably isn’t the end for our lovely, gay couple. What trials will they endure? In what manner will they fuck? Find out next time!


End file.
